Dark Sun: A Dream of better things
by Inquisitor Herron
Summary: On the burning world of Athas there is no hope for happiness or a long life. But Niko Shardu, a lowly caravan guard, will dream of a better life on another world. And those dreams may yet guide him there...
1. Chapter 1

Dark Sun: A Dream of Better Times

A one shot from the world of Athas

-(One)-

Dreams were rare for him, remembering so much of them even more so. The vivid colors and textures had startled him even as he slept. The sky was darkening in the distance with swelling rainclouds, coasting lazily toward him from the horizon and the setting sun. Clouds were not something often seen on his world. His world... He savored the cool blades of grass beneath his feet and let the thought sink in. It wasn't his world he stood on now. Not this world of green and blue.

The hill he sat on was covered in a grass softer than any he'd ever found during his travels. What little grass could be found that is, and what could be was dangerously sharp and hearty, like most things in the hostile desert. Before him stretched a forest of green and lively trees so vast it disappeared into the horizon. He didn't question the alien scenery, too busy enjoying it.

Wind blew across his lightly clothed body. Not the harsh and often chocking wind of Athas, it was a kiss of moister and pleasant smells of earth and plants. He lifted his arms and let the wind encircle him peacefully for a moment. This is what the afterlife must be like, he decided firmly. He opened his eyes lazily and noticed for the first time two figures approaching his little hill from the forest below.

He watched the two climb the hill with a calm that would be considered foolish or insane back home. They made their way slowly, seemingly enjoying the moment as much as he was. As they grew closer he could finally tell that one was a woman, the other a man. Both wore simple cloths and one had flowing blond hair that would lead to painful scalp burn on Athas, the other a mop of curly brown. He stood as the pair reached the top of the hill.

"What is this place?" He asked happily and without need for explanation. The man chuckled with good nature and patted him on the back.

"Come with us," His voice was distant and hard to make out despite his proximity. For the first time sense the dream had started he frowned, what was going on?

"We have so much to show you!" The woman finished for him, her voice small and far away as the man's. The man watched him with his intelligent and piercing eyes, waiting for an answer.

"I," He began, but the world faded around him as he spoke. The verdant green and blues of the world vanished before him in an instant. The hill and sky followed and he was left standing in the inky blackness of nothing with the two strangers. "I don't know what's happening!" He cried out, shocked by the despair in his tone.

"Find us," They spoke in tandem. Then they too were gone and he was alone in the dark. "Find us..."

-(Two)-

Niko Shardu woke reluctantly and weighed down with dread. Whether the dread was a leftover feeling from the strange dream or just preparation for another day he didn't know or really care. Another day of living, it was after all the most anybody could really hope for anyway.

The first thing to greet a person upon waking was the same everyday, oppressive heat. It was so ingrained into the minds of every living being that few even thought of it consciously. But he had dreamed of something better, and that made it all the worse to wake to the heat and the sound of sand blowing in the wind. Niko sighed deeply and banished the memory to the back of his mind, where it was less likely to get him killed.

His little corner of the world was the back of a caravan wagon, on a threadbare sleeping mat behind the farthest stack of supply pots from the door. Little slits of daylight flooded in between the wicker roof of the wagon, slicing the inner darkness into sections. Niko sat up and ran a hand over his clean shaven head tiredly. The slumber had drained him more than the day of work that had preceded it. And now another day had arrived, he thought sourly.

"Oh well," He muttered, dressing himself in the tight confines as he had done so often he could do so in absolute dark. The wagon was moving, judging by the rocking and bumping, Which meant they had broken camp without him... again. They wouldn't be happy to learn that his frequent tardiness had continued for another day. The attitude on the caravan was that if you couldn't wake yourself in time to break camp you didn't deserve a morning meal. That by itself didn't bother him much, as he ate little, but it still didn't look good for him to sleep in while others were working.

He crawled over and around the cargo of the wagon, making his way to the back door with practiced ease. The wicker door dropped open and let the glaring light of day in full. Niko simply muttered another curse and dropped to the moving ground behind the wagon, taking up the pace without missing a beat. His wagon, or more accurately the wagon he slept in, was in the back of the twenty wagon caravan, which more often than not the only reason he wasn't trampled during his late morning exits.

Pausing only long enough to retrieve his old bone spear from its holder on the rear of the wagon Niko jogged ahead and took up his position beside the middle wagon. The pace of the caravan was rarely any faster than Niko's natural walking speed, which often left him time to think. Such distractions were often fatal on Athas, but at times his mind wandered regardless. Today was all business though, he was fare too disturbed by the odd dreams to want to dwell on it or anything else. Niko kept his eyes forward and his spear gripped tightly until another set of foot falls joined his from the other side of the wagon.

"Sleep well Shardu?" His fellow caravan guard Tikus Gaur asked sarcastically as he passed in front of the wagon towing mekillot to join him on his side. The old sand lizard sniffed at him grumpily as he passed.

"Well enough," Niko answered with a mustered grin. Tikus grinned back and matched pace beside him. Like Niko he was tall and tan, with a clean shaven head mostly covered by dirty, sand colored cloak and hood. They also wore similar garments of worn cloth and sparse plates of whatever leather they had been able to gather over the years. Leather was one of the more reliable forms of armor found out in the desert, but not cheap to acquire for a simple guard.

"Something wrong?" Tikus added after a moment of tense silence. Niko sighed and inched the bridge of his nose wearily. Tikus was the closest thing to a real friend Niko had ever had, which considering the rather cruel and uncaring nature of most people, was more than he could ever have asked for. They had been working the caravan trails together for more than a ten years and in that time Niko had learned to trust the upbeat man's council.

"Strange dream, that's all." Tikus nodded sagely and patted him lightly on the back. It was a gesture not many would trust another to make, not when it required him to have a hand behind your back.

"They say a good romp with a wench can banish nightmares," Tikus laughed with a knowing grin.

"Not a nightmare," Niko corrected him idly. "Just strange is all." If Tikus was put off by the cryptic comment he gave no sign, just went on grinning beneath his hood and kept walking. The possibility of visiting the brothel wagon wasn't entirely out of the question, he had saved up a fair amount of money over the last few trail runs. But he always felt so unclean afterward, no matter how much fun he had during the act. As though he had heard the thought Tikus spoke up again.

"Perhaps just a drink after the day's trek then?" Niko nodded happily and let the rest of the walk go on in comfortable silence.

-(Three)-

The caravan had nothing as grand as a traveling bar, instead each night a few tables and chairs were set out in front of the wagon holding the drinks. It served well enough for them, and gave them a place to converse before going to bed for the night. There were only a couple dozen people in the caravan at all and most weren't so free with money to frequent the drinking wagon, which left it most nights to the seven guards that happened to be off duty, who received a few free drinks as part of the payment for keeping them safe.

Niko sipped at his drink thoughtfully and watched the darkness around the camp torches. Tikus sat across from him, going at his mug with more gusto. He never was much for drinking, no need to add a hangover to his list of problems. The other guards drank around them and fondled the brothel wenches who had come to make whatever money they could. Tikus politely ignored the attention of more than one such woman while Niko drank.

"My friend, depression doesn't suit you." Tikus told him between drinks. Niko frowned and set his drink down for a moment. Was he depressed? He supposed he was. Such petty emotions were useless he knew, but all the same he felt withdrawn and bitter. And worst of all he couldn't explain the feeling accurately. He had been given a taste of life without the constant struggle and threat of a slow death... and he wanted more.

"Don't deprive yourself just to sit next to a silent man," Niko told his friend, noticing his wayward glances at a pretty young wench across from them. Tikus grinned widely and stood from his place.

"Till next time my friend," He bade him farewell as he picked up the wench playfully in one arm. "And try to find some happiness!" Niko nodded without really listening. After a few minutes of staring at his half empty mug he placed his payment on the table next to it and left for his wagon.

-(Four)-

It was the same place, the same lovely forest and the same grassy hill. But he felt different, like the happiness of the last dream had been replaced with the dread he had felt on waking. The comfortable silky clothes he had worn last time had been replaced by his usual garb of rough sack cloth and leather. And he wasn't surprised to find he was holding his spear lightly in one hand.

It felt wrong to be there now, like he had carried a taint with him to that beautiful place. He felt dirty, like he did after the wenches. Something had to happen, for good or ill something had to let this fowl moment pass. All he had to do was wait. The wait was short lived...

"_Your name is Niko_?" He whirled with a growl, surprised by the sudden voice behind him. He wasn't alone on the hill any longer, and how such a woman had managed to sneak up on him was beyond him. She wore a pitch black robe that seamed to swirl around her like a storm cloud. The only thing not covered by the robe was her face, neck and the smallest portion of her shoulders, all of which were pale and fragile looking. Her hair looked like a continuation of the robe, black and perfectly framing her stunning face. He felt all the more dirty before the pristine woman. "_Your name is Niko_?" She repeated, and this time Niko noticed her lip didn't move as she spoke. The voice was being sent directly to his head.

"Yes," He answered hesitantly. Where were the two from his last dream? And who was this woman?

_"Yours is a world of much pain and suffering..." _It wasn't a question but he felt the need to answer anyway.

"It is," She nodded almost imperceptibly.

"_It is a world not felt by the other planes often, isolated by the Gray_." He had no idea what she was talking about, but she sounded troubled which boded ill for him. "But _the Grey flows as does water, and at times thins enough in places to permit passage,"_

"I don't understand, what is they Gray?" She didn't answer immediately, her hand went out slowly and touched the hand he had his spear in lightly. He gasped and withdrew the hand sharply as a stinging pain jolted into the back of his hand, on the exact spot her finger had brushed him. He glared at her but let the anger go when he noticed the pained look on her graceful features.

"_The time approaches_," She told him without speaking. "_Just wait, and you will have your chance for a better life..." _Then the feeling of fading away returned and the world darkened around him. She looked like just a floating face in the darkness, her hair and robe the same color as the void around them.

"Wait!" He cried frantically, desperate to maintain the dream a little longer. "What is your name!" She was gone in an instant, but her ethereal voice drifted back to him through the darkness.

"_Mystra_," The whisper reached his ear. "_You may call me Midnight, Niko Shardu_..."

And just like that the dream was no more.

-(Five)-

Niko had been awake for almost an hour, looking up at the roof of the wagon blankly. All was still and the light of day had yet to pierce the horizon. It was the still period between night and true morning, when time stood still. His mind wasn't on the odd time of waking though, it remained on what had come before the waking.

If he had been confused by the previous dream, this one had him truly lost. He clenched and unclenched his spear hand reflexively, wincing at the ghost pain left over from the dream woman's touch. Niko didn't even know which part of the dreams to wonder about first. He was pretty sure if these things kept up he would be insane before the end of the month.

Knowing any hope of getting more sleep before his shift began Niko suited up and left the wagon in something a stupor. The night guards he passed on his way to the drinking wagon nodded heads curtly at him, unused to the appearance of the caravan's latest waker before his shift had even started. Niko ignored them and ordered a small drink from the halfway asleep wagon owner. Tikus wouldn't be awake for another hour or two, so Niko pulled up a chair and sipped miserably at his drink. The alcohol tasted as unappetizing to him as it always did, but the fire it stoked in his stomach helped to take his mind off the dreams and his slipping hold on reality.

His hand had brought the mug halfway up for another drink when he got a clear glance at the back of his had. Niko nearly dropped the mug in surprise, a yelp only barely suppressed. He set the cup down and stretched his hand out, wide eyed at the strange symbol branded on his limb. In the exact spot she had touched him lay the picture of a seven pointed star of pure silver, almost glowing in the low light. He scratched at the mysterious symbol harshly, not even smudging it after almost removing a layer of skin with his nails. It looked back at him like a shimmering tattoo.

"Well at least that answers the question of whether or not the dreams had any grounding in reality..." He mumbled, laying his head down futility on the star symbol. Confusion and despair fought for a place in his rattled mind, making him feel ill. At any one time in his twenty five years he had only ever been worried about one thing, survival. Now he had more on his plate at once than he could bear. Niko much preferred the problems that could be solved with the tip of his spear.

"You're up early," Tikus commented wearily, taking a seat next to Niko. He didn't look up, not wanting to give him a view of his hand. Instead he just mumbled into the table.

"Couldn't sleep," Tikus patted his slumped back and took a long drink from his mug.

"Nor I my friend," He chuckled, probably thinking back on a night spent in the company of a hired woman. While Tikus's eyes were off of him Niko raised his head, letting the marked hand go under the rim of the table unnoticed. He would need to pretend nonchalance until he could get back to his wagon and make a bandage of some kind to cover his hand. Trying to explain a probably magic symbol popping up on one's hand was a good way to get lynched under suspicion of being a Defiler. He could only hope Tikus wouldn't pick up on his nerves and question him.

As it happened he needn't have worried, for at that moment a thunderous cry sounded from the other side of the wagon line, signaling an attack on the caravan. Tikus was off and charging before the battle cry had ended. If he had to think of an example of bitter sweet Niko thought as he rushed back to gather his weapon, this would be pretty close.

-(Six)-

Niko sped down the wagon line at breakneck speed, all thoughts of dreams and symbols blessedly forgotten as the haze of approaching battle took over. All around him the merchants and traders gathered supplies up and made for the relative safety of the wagons, parting quickly as he ran by. Why in blazes he had chosen to leave his spear behind was beyond him. He got to the end of the line and plucked the familiar polished white length of his spear from the holder hastily.

There would be time to wrap his hand later, he thought while he ran back to the sounds of battle. Besides, nobody would take the time to look at it while a battle was going on. Whoever was attacking had come from ahead of the caravan, placing them all the way down the line from where he currently stood. The other guards would already have been fighting for a good long while by the time he reached them, which troubled him greatly. Sentimentality wasn't something Niko would say he possessed a lot of, but he prided himself on doing his job well and making sure the caravan came to no harm under his watch.

The first three corpses he came across were those of caravan traders, which angered him though he didn't slow down to get a better look. Halfway back to the front of the line he found turban clad bodies of two guards and the skinny lightly armored corpses of five desert raiders. Blood was oozing into the sand from a dozen holes in the dead men, the last marks of an epic fight. The clash of weapons and pained cries were all encompassing now, and he could spot figures dancing to and fro at the head of the caravan. With one last shout Niko threw himself into the battle.

-(Seven)-

The remaining guards were holding their own against the raiders, who so far outnumbered them two to one. Niko aided a guard who's name he had never learned, his initial rush taking one of his attackers from behind and piercing the unfortunate raider's heart with his bone spear. Three more wild eyed raiders circled the them, waiting for a chance to lunge with the wicked looking obsidian daggers they all carried.

Niko lunged for one of the raiders, plunging his spear downward in a feint and letting the raider move in close to counter the missed attack. As soon as the knife came into range Niko shot out his free hand, his outstretched thumb sinking into the shocked man's eyes socket in one smooth motion. When you fight with a pole weapon like the spear long enough you learn a few tricks to keep it effective at close range. The now one eyed raider fell to the ground writhing and screaming, his dagger forgotten. Before long he was still and silent, his empty eye socket weeping blood into the desert sand.

The guard at his side went in for an attack on one of the two remaining raiders, but his spear was shore off at the tip by a swipe of the raider's superior dagger. Before Niko or the guard could react, the second raider went came in with a downward plunge, burying the blade into the guard's skull up to the handle. Roaring with hatred Niko jumped forward, savoring the look of terror on the raider's face as he tried in vein to dislodge his weapon from the dead man's head in time to stave off his attack.

His spear went through the raider like there was nothing there, pinning him through the center of his chest. Niko yanked his spear free of the falling corpse with little effort, as unlike the now dead raider his weapon was not serrated. The last of the raiders glared at Niko, his face gaunt from lack of food and water. Niko just glared back as they circled each other. Neither was willing to give the other the advantage of the counter, not after seeing what could happen.

The stale mate ended abruptly when a spear tip appeared through the raiders neck. Niko shared a brief look with the dying man before the spear was yanked out and he fell dead. Tikus pulled his bloody weapon back and leaned heavily on it, blood flowing freely from a nasty wound on his leg. Niko went to aid him but stopped short when Tikus raised a hand.

"On the dune ahead of us," He rasped, his face pale from blood lose. "A Defiler..." Niko cursed silently and waited for Tikus to continue. "The other guards are taking cover behind the other side of the dune, but that damned Defiler is blasting away at them. They're all pinned down or dead save for us two," Instead of an answer Niko just nodded his head and took off for the looming shape of the sand dune, painted gray in the early morning light.

He didn't have to get very close to see the figure standing atop the dune, arms outstretched and an eccentric cape flowing in the harsh desert wind. Tikus limped beside him and they both knelt down, trying not to be seen by the ominous figure before them. Defilers were by far one of the most feared enemies a man could have, and Niko had never even seen one up close before. He had been told as a child that such bands of raiders were often led by lesser Defilers, but until now he'd had the good fortune never to test that knowledge. His back was turned to them, Niko assumed he was looking to where the other caravan guards had taken cover.

Now was the time for a plan of attack, he knew. But what plan could one hope for against a user of the very force that had torn the world apart. His mind was frozen in terror, his hand trembling so much that his spear was nearly vibrating. Death was an everyday part of life on Athas, but magic was a dark and cursed thing , rightfully feared by all.

The morning twilight lit up suddenly as the Defiler raised a heavily jeweled hand, sending a fire ball the size of Niko's chest rocketing down the other side of the dune. A half lived scream signaled the retirement of yet another guard. He couldn't afford to wait any longer. With a finger raised to Tikus in a hushing motion Niko began creeping up the side of the dune, noticing the wide eyed glance his marked hand had received from his old friend. Oh well, it couldn't be helped now. Tikus crawled a few feet behind him, slowed to near motionlessness by his wound. He was nearly two thirds of the way up the sand dune when the Defiler turned around, glaring directly at him. Niko's heart skipped a beat.

"Trying to sneak up on a magic user rarely works you know," The crazed looking old man informed him almost casually. Niko nodded his head dumbly. He was going to die. The crimson robe clad man raised a hand, palm facing Niko. His heart beat loudly in his ears as he stood to attack in what looked to him like slow motion, unwilling to die crawling in the sand. His spear was cocked to throw when an ark of lightning shot forth from the Defiler's wrinkled hand, blinding Niko even as it struck full in the chest.

If he was still holding his spear when he landed he couldn't feel it, of course he couldn't feel the impact of landing either. Niko slid a few feet down the slope before coming to a rest, little flickers of residual electricity dancing down his body. He couldn't move, couldn't even feel the parts of his body he was trying to move. A terrible ringing had blocked out all sound and all he could do was look up with half closed eyes at the morning sky. But his eyes were closing, no he corrected himself, his vision was just fading.

Niko supposed the Defiler would be laughing if he could here him, if one more dead guard even mattered to such a powerful person. So much power in just one attack... The thought was the last one he could form before the light was gone completely.

"_If you make the passage now the ones who traveled with you will suffer_," Her voice was back in his head, Midnight's voice. He could see again though he hadn't opened his eyes.

Niko was standing on the old grassy hill again, standing across from the beautiful woman. This time he payed the scenery no heed. She was watching him with something like a mix of sorrow and impatience.

"The ones who traveled with me," Niko searched for the words, but it was like a wall of mist was separating his mind and body, growing thicker as he waited. "You mean the caravan, don't you?" She simply nodded her head. Frustration came slowly through the mental fog, tinged with despair. "What do you want me to do?" He wanted to shout, but could only manage to groan.

"_Live_," She answered, and suddenly he was looking back at the empty sky of Athas.

His body moved as he willed it, but slowly as though it was receiving his commands a few seconds late. With a gasp of raw agony he sat up on the slopping sand and tried to remain upright. His chest was a mess of blackened leather and bloody flesh. Most of the armor had burnt away, falling to ashes as he pulled himself onto his knees. Blood dripped from somewhere on his face as he balanced himself, painting little dots into the sand before him.

With a woozy mind and barely functioning body Niko looked around him until he found what was left of his spear. The weapon had exploded during the electrical charge, by appearance. The sharp end ended in a fragment of splinters after only a foot down. He picked it up regardless, holding it more like a dagger now. Tikus was nowhere to be seen, not that Niko had enough strength left in him to search. He stood on shaky feet and made his was slowly up the dune.

The Defiler had turned his back on him, blasting away at the other guards with screaming glee. Niko had nothing left to dedicate to stealth, the thinking remnants of his mind simply hoping the constant roar of fireballs pouring forth from the evil man's hands would shield his noise. He was at the top of the dune before his right leg gave out, maddeningly close to the attacking Defiler. No, no, no no! His mind screamed in denial as he fell to his knees. Purple spot appeared in his vision, which was darkening around the edges.

The Defiler turned to him once again, a wide and chilling grin plastered on his hatchet face. He waltzed over to Niko with pomp and arrogance. He was laughing hysterically by the time he stood a foot away, looking down at the man who by that time was more dead than alive.

"You don't learn very fast do you?" He cackled, placing a cold hand on Niko's blackened shoulder. He winced at the feeling of his burnt skin cracking under the firm grasp, but held in a cry of pain. He was saving everything he had, for what he didn't know. "As I said before, trying to sneak up on a magic user rarely," Niko's hand shot upward suddenly, the spear fragment clutched firmly in the dying fingers. The Defiler's eyes bulged widely as the weapon remnant pierced his lower jaw, coming to rest far inside his brain.

"That is much more effective," Niko muttered through a mouthful of blood. They fell side by side, one dead and the other dying.

-(Eight)-

Niko watched the sky idly, his vision rapidly fading away once more. He had the feeling this time it was permanent. A figure hobbled toward where he lay in the sand, hunched over him. Some part of his mind further back told him it was probably Tikus. When a face became clear through the purple spot he confirmed as much.

"Hello my friend," Tikus mumbled, taking a seat next to the prone form of Niko. He managed a small nod in return, his mouth wouldn't move. "You saved them all," Tikus told him with a bit of pride and a bit of sorrow. "Don't know if that helps," Niko tried to nod again but couldn't manage it. It did help, knowing he had followed through with his job to the end.

Tikus sat with him for awhile in silence, probably waiting for his friend to die. he wouldn't need to wait long, Niko knew just by feeling. The sun was up in full now, which almost annoyed him. It figured he would die in the damn glaring sun. His body would probably be in agony if he could feel it, but as it stood only the dull throb of his hand penetrated the nerve damage he had no doubt received from the Defiler's attack. He tried to turn his head to the symbol but gave up after only a moment of blood gurgled coughs. Seeing the motion Tikus picked up his limp arm gingerly and set it on his chest before his eyes.

"It's glowing..." Tikus whispered with wide eyes. Niko could only imagine the questions his friend would ask if he only had the time. But as Niko looked down at the twinkling star symbol he noticed that his heart had stopped beating. His eyes closed in stages, but he was already gone before the lids were shut. "I will miss our drinks together my friend," Tikus muttered sadly, before returning to the caravan.

"_What now? What do I have to do?"_

_"You have to die,"_

_"That much I think I can manage..."_

-(Nine)-

Niko felt grass beneath him before he ever opened his eyes. A smile grew across his face as he was greeted by the blue sky he had seen in his dreams. But he knew without asking this was no dream, it would never be a dream again. He sat up and blinked a few times in surprise. No grassy hill or distant forest greeted him as he'd expected. Instead he sat on a rocky outcrop next to a path, the snowy peeks of mountains distant but surrounding him on three sides.

And far off in the distance greenery, living forests at the foot of the mountain on which he sat. Even so far away it was such a pleasant thing to know that plants were thriving there. It was good to know he had left the cruelty of Athas behind him. But why here? Why not the perfection of the moments in his dream?

"_Nothing is perfect, Niko Shardu_," He turned calmly, not at all surprised to find Midnight standing on the mountain path with him, untroubled by the freezing winds that buffeted him. He grinned at the site of her, amazed at how quickly one could become comfortable with the impossible.

"So what now?" Niko asked, a drifting thought for Tikus and the caravan passing through his mind. Midnight smiled at him gently.

"_That's for you to decide,"_ She informed him. "This world isn't perfect but many good people call it home, and here you have a chance at happiness," He frowned thoughtfully, looking out at the distant forest bellow. It really was cold, colder than he'd even been. Probably colder than anyone in Athas had even been.

"So why did you help me?" He asked, it didn't really matter in the end he supposed, but still he wanted to know.

_"Because for that one moment, I could_," When he looked back she was gone, and past where she had stood he saw two figures approaching from down the mountain trail. He let the disappearance go easily and walked to meat the two travelers halfway. As he walked he noticed his destroyed clothing had been replaced with the silky shirt and pants from his dream, soft gray and held in place by a nice leather belt. He would thank Midnight for that if ever they met again, which for some reason he doubted.

The man was smiling before either of them had even spoke, his kind eyes sharp and inquisitive. Niko held out a hand, which was heartily shaken by the man then his female companion. They stood watching each other for a while in silence, both wearing grins but Niko's was the most genuine he'd ever worn.

"Cadderly Bonaduce at your service!" The man greeted him, shaking his hand again. "And this is my wife Danica Maupoissant," She smiled at him warmly, offering her hand again as well. Niko thought long and hard about what he would say next, aware of all the time he had to explore this new world. Maybe even to explore other worlds, he added with a small glance to the symbol on his hand.

"My name is Niko Shardu," He told them. "And I think you have a lot to show me,"

Neither of them disagreed

End


	2. Chapter 2

_A small side note from the Inquisitor_

Thanks for reading my first shot at a Dark Sun story! Just wanted to let everyopne know that my next piece will be novel length, following Niko's adventures in the Forgotten Realms. Any advice, comments, requests, questions or other such things may be sent as a message to me or left as a comment to this story.

Thanks for reading and as always, the Emperor Protects.


End file.
